


I've Got You

by dearprouvaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Fluffy, M/M, Might be a little triggering for alcohol abuse, Well - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearprouvaire/pseuds/dearprouvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Cause I've got you to make me feel stronger, when the days are rough and an hour seems much longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

> The song is "I've Got You" by the amazing band McFly. I hope you enjoy it, it's not beta'd and I wrote it- again- in Spanish class. The bundled lines in the "-" and with a name at the end are lyrics from the song. It's sung by two people so I made some of the lines as Enjolras', and some Grantaire's. :)

"The world would be a lonely place  
Without the one that puts a smile on your face  
So hold me 'til the sun burns out  
I won't be lonely when I'm down." - Grantaire

"Are you sure?" Enjolras asked, his tone quiet and low. He was worried. Grantaire couldn't help the small smile that crept on his lips. He turned to face his boyfriend and draped his long arms around his middle. 

"Yes. I am sure." he replied, his face buried in Enjolras chest. His Apollo let out a ragged breath and held on to him for a little while longer. 

"Then let's go." His voice had already gotten stronger with the prospect of being able to take the control back in his hands. Together, they started dumping out Grantaires entire alcohol stash into the sink. After the first few bottles had went down the drain, the drunk stopped flinching and even started to enjoy it a little bit as he saw the blissful smile on Enjolras lips. 

It took them the better part of an hour to get rid of all the alcohol that Grantaire had hidden in their small, shared apartment. It were more bottles than Enjolras had expected and from time to time, when he was sure Grantaire couldn't see him, the leader of Les Amis let his shoulders sink and a deep frown appear on his face. 

"That's it." He suddenly got ripped out of his thoughts as Grantaire put a gentle hand on his arm. 

"That's it? All of it?" He wanted to make sure the young artists want lying to him, but he only got a nod in response. "Okay, great!" He forced a smile on his lips. "Now... do you want to watch a movie or something?" Sometimes, it still scared Enjolras how domestic he and Grantaire had gotten over the months they had spend with each other, but in the end he couldn't say that he minded one bit.

"'Cause I've got you to make me feel stronger  
When the days are rough  
And an hour seems much longer." - Grantaire  
The first few days were hard for both of them. Grantaire suffered from bad withdrawl symptoms, slipping in and out of consciousness and tossing and turning around in their shared bed. Every time Enjolras wiped the sweat off his forehead or brought him another cup of tea and crawled under the blankets with him, he could feel his heart cracking just that little bit further in his chest. He hated to see his love like this, his ebony hair sticking to his pale skin and a pained expression on his face even when he was asleep. 

It took Enjolras all his strength to say "No" whenever Grantaire begged him to go and buy him a bottle of whiskey. At night, curled up against his now sober artist in bed, he couldn't stop his thoughts from frantically racing through his mind. Grantaire, now slowly on the long road to recovery, noticed that the body beside him was tense. 

"Enjy?" he whispered but got no reply. "Enjolras, I know you're not sleeping!" This time, his voice was loud enough that even if Enjolras had been asleep, he'd be awake by now. "What's wrong?" Grantaire demanded to know, tightening his arms around the blonde man.

"I never doubted you at all  
The stars collide, will you stand by  
And watch them fall?  
So hold me 'til the sky is clear  
And whisper words of love right into my ear." - Enjolras 

Suddenly, a noise he had never heard before, came from somewhere close to Grantaires ear. It took him a while to locate where it was coming from, but once he had figured it out, his eyes went wide in shock. Crying. Enjolras was crying. Within a second, Grantaire had sat up in his bed, ignoring the pounding in his head, and dragged his boyfriends limb body on his chest. 

"Apollo..." he said, running his fingers through soft blonde curls. "What's wrong my Apollo?" 

Enjolras didn't reply for a while, furiously wiping his hands over his cheeks in order to get rid of the stains the drying tears were leaving on his face. He avoided to look into Grantaires eyes. "Don't call me that, I'm no Apollo. I am a monster!" He sounded disgusted with himself and the words seemed to taste like venom on his lips. 

"No, no, no, no. Why, no..." the black haired man started to ramble, suddenly starting to panic because he had never even seen the hint of a tear in their fearless leaders eyes. "Tell me what's wrong, please!" By now, he was almost begging for an answer. 

"Grantaire, I don't deserve you! You are such a wonderful, wonderful man and I don't deserve that, can't you see that?!"

"What are you talking about, Enjolras?" He sounded honestly confused. 

"I've always talked you down, R. The way I've treated you in the past... I don't deserve you! I never realized how I was acting towards you! I never meant it, I swear!" 

Grantaire let a long sigh escape from his lips before he replied. "You weren't the only one who doubted me, and really, it's no surprise. I'm a mess. Don't worry about it!" Slowly stroking his calloused fingers over the other mans perfectly sculpted cheekbones, Grantaire had a lopsided smile on his face. 

"I never doubted you at all." 

With a look of surprise, pain and so, so much love mingling together in his eyes, Grantaire looked down at Enjolras as soon as the blonde man had said the words. 

"You are no monster." he whispered and placed a small kiss on his temple. "I love you, my Apollo. I love you so much." 

One last sniffle sounded from Enjolras before he finally relaxed into Grantaires arms. The room was only illuminated by the light of the stars and the moon that feel through the window which almost took up the entire wall beside their bed. 

"I couldn't do this without you." Grantaire himself wasn't sure what exactly head meant with his words, the lines of his drinking problems and the reason for his existence slowly blending together as he interlaced his fingers with the perfect digits that belonged to Apollos hand. Their skin was faintly glowing in the pale light. 

"'Cause I've got you to make me feel stronger  
When the days are rough  
And an hour seems much longer  
Yeah when I got you  
Oh to make me feel better  
When the nights are long they'll be  
Easier together." - Grantaire

It took them time. It took them a lot of time. Both Enjolras and Grantaire knew that things weren't fixed completely and that they had to continue fighting for each other, but they both embraced it with great enthusiasm. Sometimes, when Grantaire felt like the only way out was with a bottle of vine, it took one look from his be,over Apollo, and even if they were fighting, the artists learned how discard his dark thoughts quickly. At night, when they lay, Grantaires head on Enjolras chest and his ebony curls spread out over alabaster skin, both of them couldn't believe their luck. Somehow, besides every obstacle life had thrown their way, they had ended up together after all. And even if they didn't say it out loud that much, they both knew how incredibly proud of each other they were that they had managed to cope. 

Grantaire didn't just quit drinking for Enjolras, he also did it for himself. He was stunned how much more he could archive with his paintbrush in his hand and a clear and sober mind. They weren't perfect, but they were perfect for each other, as Jehan liked to mention every so often in one of his poems...


End file.
